I also think it helped that we've already had quite a number of years together so that we are already familiar with the routines. There is nothing new for Husband to learn or get used to yet, so I'll keep that advice, which I still think is helpful, in mind for when he returns for good. But for now, I'm going to sit back and let the magic happen.
As I mentioned before, we've been married a long time. Long enough so that when I tell people how long we've been married, they gasp. I think this is because I don't look old enough to have been married that long (good genes and liberal use of sunscreen.) The other day, someone mistook me for being under 30. I know! The light was a little dim and he definitely needs his eyes checked, but it made me smile all day. It must be the bangs. But I digress. What I was starting to say is that in our married life, we've been separated for about a month a couple of times. The first was when he went for language training in this armpit of a town in Asia for a month without me and the baby. When people heard where he was going, they asked if I was worried that he'd get lonely and fall prey to some Asian hussy. I laughed at them because I knew that the only women he was hanging around with were a couple of French nuns and he used all his spare time and change calling me. So no, I wasn't jealous.
The second time was when I was stuck in language training and he moved to China with two of the children and I stayed behind with the third and she said once, "Remember that time when it was just you and me in our red brick house and we were lonely?" Yes, we were. Luckily, Skype had been invented by then, and so had the internet and we could see each other twice a day. And again, I wasn't jealous because I knew I would join him soon.
Then came Afghanistan and I was seething with jealousy. Not over women, because even if there were any there, that is not who Husband is. No, it's Afghanistan itself that I hated for luring Husband away from me with promises of excitement and adventure that I can't give. But now that he's come home for a bit, all that jealousy has melted away and I am no longer angry at Husband. I can see clearly that it is not his fault and I can put the blame squarely on the person responsible for this entire war. That's right. I am now seething mad at Queen Victoria. If that British hussy hadn't had such a thirst for Empire, maybe Pakistan and Afghanistan wouldn't be the mess they are today. So you can see that I'm totally right about the British. Every bad thing is all their fault! Hmph.
Today, my friends "Rob and Bobbi" suggested this link for someone having a bad day. It is particularly appropriate because it involves Norway, where I used to live, and a moose, which I had in my back yard and we nicknamed Bullwinkle and it used to charge at us when we made the long walk from the bus stop up our driveway to the house. So thank you, Norwegian driver, for reminding me to be grateful there is no danger I will hit either a moose or a bear in my town. And thank you Rob and Bobbi for the fun story. I'm sorry you have to put up with all those awful British people because you live in England.